Link of the Chain
by jacqui 81
Summary: Ichigo finds himself dead and in Soul Society, and Renji is ready to kill him again. Renji/Orihime, Ichigo/Rukia.
1. Chapter 1

It was the single worst moment of Orihime's life. The alley pavement was cold beneath her, the dark gray skies overhead surrendering to the early evening. The frosty air was sharp on her skin, and there was quite a bit of skin exposed.

_He shoulda took ya when he was alive,_ Hichigo said, his smirk inches from her face, blue tongue drawing up the side of her cheek. _He was stupid like that._

It was followed by a chilling cackle only the Hollow could make and it shook Orihime to her core as no other sound ever had. She wanted to tell him Ichigo would never do such a thing, that he'd given his life to protect her from his darkest side.

Instead she lay immobile, the cold biting into her as the Hollow lay on top of her, and Ichigo lay close by her.

Dead.

Nearby also lay her hairpins, bent beyond use.

They had become unclasped during her fight against the Hollow, trying futilely to move out of his reach, only succeeding in losing the hairpins and putting off what seemed to be inevitable. Whether it was the time-worn exhaustion of fighting off the Hollow after trying to heal Ichigo or the sheer paralyzing terror of the monster on top of her, she was too fatigued to fight on.

To anyone passing by, she would have appeared as simply lying there in the ice and snow, shivering, tears brimming her eyes in fear and loss, rumpled and pinned. No one would see the grinning, mocking Hollow whose hand had worked up her school skirt to her hip, the pointed tongue dry-cold on her face.

One hand only, as the other was still tethered by Ichigo's dead grasp on his wrist. It slowed down Hichigo's intent, but it didn't stop him.

Orihime's strength was gone, all fought out of her, exhaustion setting in as a cold pain replaced her will. She knew she should have fled when Ichigo told her to – demanded for her to leave him during his battle against his own Hollow – but she hadn't. She'd stayed and hoped, and prayed, as always.

And Ichigo had lost.

Her attempt to revive him had cost her, putting her too near Hichigo.

She wasn't sure she would have done anything differently if she could relive the last half an hour of Ichigo's life.

But she knew she would have been quicker.

* * *

><p>Renji and his team had ousted every Hollow in Karakura Town by the time the sun set early in the cold skies. It was an exceptionally frigid night, even for February. It wasn't like Ichigo to ignore his Soul Society communicator, and it put Renji in a foul mood.<p>

"Head on back!" he called to the three shinigami in his team. "We're done!"

"Yes, Vice Captain Abarai!" they shouted back to him.

He let them go on, still waiting for the last drizzle of reiatsu trickling from the other side of town to fade. It was familiar, oddly so, and when it hovered at the threshold of living and death, he decided to check up on it.

Rukia was late – actually hadn't arrived at all – and Renji wondered if that had something to do with Ichigo ignoring his calls. Didn't matter, Renji told himself, but back-up _was_ back-up.

He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, pinpointing the drift of reiatsu coming from an alley. It was a unique form, a combination, and it made him wary. He alighted to the alley as the darkening skies threw shadows into the lanes, hiding movement. The spiritual powers turned, twisted in the spiritual realm, confusing and combining.

Renji's senses sharpened. The threads of reiatsu held more familiarity. And then he heard the muted whimper of a girl, and then it became recognizable.

He landed in the alley, shadows allowing little light, little sight, and saw Ichigo lying on the pavement to one side near the intersection to another lane.

"Kurosaki..." he mumbled, and then leapt there.

Ichigo lay face up and beyond him moved white robes as another form crouched. Renji drew his sword, the sound making the figure turn and look at him.

Hichigo growled when he saw the red-haired shinigami, leaning back from the other side of Ichigo's unmoving body. Renji was about to fire off a string of curses, but another movement made him forget to; unlike the Living, he was perfectly able to see the couple there for who they were.

Ichigo's body had blocked more than the Hollow's form; a feminine figure scrambled to her knees and scurried away, pulling her skirts down as she went, her cries nearly unheard.

_Ya ran her off, ya fool_! Hichigo yelled at Renji. He leapt to his feet, but didn't get far. Ichigo's hand jerked him to a stop, fingers in an iron grip around the Hollow's wrist. Hichigo laughed an eerie sound. _Ya want a go at her, ya gotta wait!_

It took Renji a moment to comprehend, partly because he didn't want to – not the dead hand on the Hollow's wrist, not the girl who had just been assaulted and fled.

Hichigo lunged again, jerked to halt again by Ichigo's death-grip. The Hollow screamed a bloodcurdling howl at Renji, straining at Ichigo's restraint on him.

The shock of seeing Ichigo dead and Orihime run off in what was undoubtedly a very bad situation left Renji unmoving for a second.

Then he grabbed Zabimaru tighter and dashed to the tangled Hollow and newly dead body. He stuck the broad edge at the Hollow's throat, letting the tine at the tip pierce through the flesh of the drooling spirit.

"You did this?" he demanded, glancing at Ichigo only for a second. Renji knew death when he saw it.

_Cut me loose and we can go find her,_ Hichigo proposed, yellow eyes glinting evilly. _Ill share her with —_

Renji let the tine of the sword dig deeper, inching into the throat as if to stop the vulgarity from seeping out.

A black trickle of liquid started down Hichigo's neck. _Cut me loose._ He shook his arm where Ichigo's dead fingers still clamped. _I cant do it myself. Cut me loose!_

Ichigo was limp, but his hand was steel-tight around the Hollow's wrist, his last attempt at confining the spirit after what had been his final battle. Beneath his head was Orihime's coat, saturated with blood and reiryoku. Renji glared back at the purely wicked entity that now stood weaponless before him; Ichigo's death had disarmed Hichigo.

"You asshole!" Renji's sword flashed, not to Ichigo's hand, but to the Hollow's arm, the blade severing Hichigo's arm below the elbow.

A look of horror flooded Hichigo. That iron grip of Ichigo's hand on his wrist was all there was left. Both fed off each other spiritually, which was why Hichigo was sword-less as Ichigo lay dying. Now cut from his master, the Hollow was left soulless more so than ever.

Black spouted from the stump at his elbow as he dropped to his knees. He glared up at Renji, cradling his arm. _Ya son of a bitch! Ya coulda saved him! Me! Coulda saved me!_

"He's dead," Renji said, not sorting through the words spat at him, taking a second to glance to the alley he'd seen Orihime run. "You filthy bastard!"

_Coulda been fun_, Hichigo sputtered, his words slowing as he slouched, his power draining away. _Id of shared her with ya..._

Renji kicked him over, his sandal smashing into the leer that with its last ounce of strength professed the desire for destruction that drove the Hollow.

Renji didn't wait for it to die. He ran down the alley after Orihime, listening for any sound, knowing she'd hide if she could. The thought of any attack on her suddenly sickened him, and the image of Hichigo crouching over her renewed that repulsion.

"Orihime!" he called, taking the next corner of the building, knowing she'd be land-bound. "Orihime!"

He searched for several long moments, the dark falling around him – them – as the evening turned to early nightfall. For a long moment he searched, calling, listening. It wasn't until he was quiet for a long moment that he heard her. What he heard wasn't a sound so much as the non-sound of someone holding their breath, choking back tears and pain. He'd only heard that sound a few times.

He searched the crates and dumpsters lining the alley, seeing no movement. This time he spoke in something less than a shout. "Orihime?"

There was a sob in response, one that was restrained.

Renji followed it. Behind a stack of boxes and crates ready for discard, was a shadow sorely out of place in the smelly alley.

Orihime pushed herself further into the crates, pulling her torn blouse closer to her. She was minus her coat, having used it to put under Ichigo's head when she tried to heal him. She tried to hide in the dark as Renji moved a few boxes, crouching to see her better.

His eyes naturally dropped to her torn blouse that she held up with her hand, her other hand pulling her ripped skirt around her knees. Without really looking, he noticed her hairpins were gone, her hair tousled against her wet face.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, knowing it wasn't.

She shook her head, pulling her blouse tighter against her chest, the buttons ripped off. "He killed him..." she sobbed, turning her face from him.

"Are you all right?" Renji knew better than to ask, but it was already said, and in his mind he'd already heard her answer: Of course she was not all right.

She turned her face from him more, drawing her knees up to her chest, this time her cries unchecked against her skirt as she lowered her face to her knees.

The movement left much of her exposed now, and Renji could see bruises forming on her legs and forearms. Against every rule for interacting with the Living, he sheathed his sword and crouched closer toward her. He gathered her close to his chest, her knees angling to one side on the cold pavement, feeling her body, usually supple and inviting, now tense and tight against him.

At least, Renji had always thought Orihime looked supple and inviting. He didn't know that for a fact.

She let herself become surrounded by his arms, face buried in her mussed, damp hair against his robes, her cries muffled as he murmured something – she wasn't sure exactly what – and held her close.

She let the black of his robes envelope her thoughts, dissolving into the dark of the material, wishing she could open her eyes and know the attack had been but a nightmare she would wake from.

Renji's embrace around her changed to block a cold gust of wind that found its way into the alley. "I'm calling for assistance," he told her, letting one arm lower on her. "I'll get this –"

"Don't leave me!" she whispered against him. "Please don't go!"

He felt a new tremble begin through her, one so violent than he knees knocked against the pavement. He shook his head, pulling her closer again. "I won't leave, but I've got to let Soul Society know what's happened."

"Don't tell anyone. Not...not everything."

He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach at hearing the words, knowing she felt even worse. "I won't."

She sniffed, selfishly leaning deeper into him as if to adhere to his very robes.

"You'll be all right," he said, letting his hand glide up her back, settle over her tousled hair there, knowing it was not the moment to notice its softness, its peachy scent. "I won't leave."

He felt her exhale a shaky breath, felt her subtle nod against him.

"Please don't leave, Renji."

He shifted a glance behind them down the alley to where Ichigo and a very nasty Hollow lay dying.

"I won't leave you alone," he told her, turning back as his communicator beeped. "I promise I won't, Orihime."


	2. Chapter 2

Renji stood watching Rukia loiter at the recovery room door that evening. It wasn't the typical recovery section in Fourth Division, but the konso ward for those souls admitting directly into Soul Society – and into the shinigami ranks. It was little used, and Renji could only think of a few times it had seen a guest.

"Give him time," he told Rukia for the tenth time as her small face set with worry. She'd been at the doorway, as he had, since Ichigo Kurosaki had been brought from death to the section nearly two hours ago now. "Staring at him isn't going to wake him up any quicker."

"It does you," she returned, but without her usual bite.

He shook his head, passing on several comments, mostly because he was still pissed.

"Why are you so sour about all this?" She turned to look at him, the first time she had since he'd brought Ichigo back with him as a new corpse. Her finger tapped along her folded arms, her attempts at a mischievous expression lost on him. "Still jealous?"

"Nope. I'm way past that." He nearly grinned at her surprised look that immediately turned to annoyance.

"Then what? Competition in the ranks? You knew he'd end up here sooner or later."

Renji's hand inched to his sword hilt. He'd promised Orihime he wouldn't tell her secret, her attack; it wasn't his secret to tell, and he'd given his word to her that he wouldn't. "I get enough of him in the Living World. Now he's here, too."

She giggled and glanced back to the room.

Inside lay Ichigo on a tatami mat, snoring slightly, covered with a few blankets, one arm still wearing a heavy chain that sealed his Hollow powers – just in case. Rukia's eyes softened as she studied him. Renji's account had been brief, but it told her enough. He'd arrived just after Ichigo had lost the ultimate battle against his Hollow. It was all Renji offered, all she needed to hear.

It made her think of Kaien, which made her both angry and ashamed, again.

Renji recognized the look washing over her face. "I've got paperwork. You can stay and watch him drool into the pillow if you want." He didn't dodge the punch she gave him to the shoulder, absorbing it as the impact jarred her short stature. "See you later, Rukia."

She frowned, watching him leave down the porch that lined the outer side of the konso ward. "I never seen you in such a hurry to do paperwork."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, my _back-up_ never showed up at the Hollow attack, so –"

"Hey! I told you I was sorry!"

"Not so loud. You'll wake the dead."

Rukia simmered, watching him leave. She glanced back to Ichigo still unconscious in the room. The cool of the day was growing cooler, slightly chilly, and by the looks of it, Ichigo had no intention of waking any time soon.

She slid down the doorframe, sighing as she leaned against the timber, eyes on the still form in the room.

Ichigo in Soul Society, to stay. It would definitely change some things for her.

* * *

><p>Orihime had seen the shinigami meet Renji that terrible evening, seen the shock and reverence the unranked members had when they saw the newly deceased soul.<p>

Ichigo's reputation had gotten around.

Much had happened in the nearly two years since Aizen had lost the War, Ichigo had confronted his Fullbringer side, and his consequential loss of those powers. He was more shinigami and Hollow than ever, and now with his death, even that Living human part of him was only a memory.

Orihime remained in the shadows, trying to be as small as possible, keeping her sobs to a mere sniffle. Renji hadn't left her in the alley until she asked him to. She knew he had to meet the team from Soul Society to make arrangements for Ichigo. She hadn't budged from the alley as he went about his duty as a shinigami.

Hichigo had been reduced to an eerie white shadow on the pavement, and after his severed arm had drained of reiatsu fed from Ichigo, he'd dissolved, leaving only a white powder that blew away in the cold breeze gusting through the alley.

Orihime had left the vicinity without a word to Renji. As soon as he was busy with the other shinigami and discussing some of the points – the ones not including her – she'd left. She was grateful not to be part of his details.

She got home in record time, thankful for the quiet apartment, still sore and shivering. She locked every lock on the door and started the shower in the bathroom before even turning on the lights. She let the small room fill with hot water, feeling the steam on her face in the cool air. The warmth forced her think again, made some of the feeling come back to her numb flesh.

Orihime didn't want that. She shuddered and went into her bedroom. She automatically switched to high the portable heater in the center of the room and then flicked on the small lamp on the nightstand. Her brother's framed photo stared back at her.

"No, don't," she said, turning the frame to face away from her. "Don't look at me, brother."

She quickly gathered clean clothes and went to the bathroom. She shed her mussed and bloodied clothing and kicked them to one corner. A sudden sob caught her, and she wanted to kick the clothing again. She didn't, instead avoiding looking in the mirror and stepping into the shower. The hot water seemed especially hot, stinging her skin, the steam taking her breath.

She wanted it to, take her breath so she couldn't cry, couldn't sob, maybe even cease to breathe. It didn't happen, and she leaned to the wall, choking back tears until she couldn't tell if she had won or not. The hot water pelted her face, mingling with salty tears running from her eyes as she squeezed them shut.

It wasn't possible that Hichigo could rape just anyone; he was a spirit, and her abilities to interact with that world were what enabled her attack. Orihime knew that.

She also knew she had been robbed of much that day. Her innocence was gone, Ichigo was gone, and nothing would ever be the same again.

This time she gave in to the sobs that broke from her, letting herself cry uncontrolled. The cold seizing her seemed to go straight to her bones, settle there and take hold. She scrubbed herself vigorously with a soapy washcloth, wishing to scrape off any touch that remained of the Hollow. It didn't work, the cold contact of the attack still with her, still gripping her in icy force.

She took a shaky breath, this time trying to recall Renji's arms around her, the warmth of his embrace, the calm of his safe hold. She hadn't notice much else about him at that moment, only that he was close and warm, strong and protective, and that she was not alone.

After a few moments that memory was enough to dispel the frigid feel of the pavement on her back during her accost, of the monster on her.

Orihime kept her mind that moment, that memory of protection.

She stayed in the shower until the warm water began to run cool, and then got out and quickly dressed in her soft, thick pajama bottoms and a heavy sweatshirt. She wrapped her hair in a towel and didn't bother to wipe the condensation from the mirror, still not wanting to see herself.

She wanted hot chocolate, but knew she didn't deserve it.

She considered hot tea, but had no taste for it, or anything else at the moment. The phone rang and she answered it after the fifth ring, watching it for a long moment. She sat at the couch in the small, dimly lit living room adjoining the kitchen area and grimaced as she pulled her legs to her side on the cushion, still sore. As much as a spirit as Hichigo was, there were still physical manifestations he was capable of.

"Hello," she said hoarsely into the phone.

"Hey, 'Hime-chan," Tatsuki said. "Have you heard?"

For a moment Orihime wanted to blurt out several things, but she didn't. Tatsuki didn't know, and she wasn't about to tell her, or anyone else. "About Ichigo?"

"Oh, yeah, I figured you heard." There was a pause on Tatsuki's end. "Are you okay?"

"No." It was a truthful answer, so Orihime quickly added, "His sisters will miss him so much."

"Yeah, I know. You sound odd, but I guess... well, yeah. Do you want me to come over?"

"No," Orihime said quickly, cradling the phone closer.

"You sure?"

"No. It's too late. I'll, I'll talk to you at school."

"We don't have class tomorrow. Want to come with me to pay our respects at the Kurosaki house?"

"No." Orihime said it before she thought it through. "I mean, I'm not sure yet."

"I understand, 'Hime-chan." Tatsuki sighed. "Okay, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Okay. Bye, Tatsuki-san."

The line clicked, and Orihime hung up the receiver.

She turned out the lamp and sat alone in the dark, letting the thick blackness of the room engulf her, smothering out the day.

She let her arms cradle at her abdomen, pressing against the soft pajama bottoms. Maybe she could undo it. Reverse it. Reject the attack. She could do that.

But it would do nothing to erase her memory.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading. Future chapters will be longer.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Orihime did go with Tatsuki to express her sympathy for the Kurosaki family's loss. It was an awkward twenty minutes that was made more vivid for Orihime by Yuzu's unrelenting sobbing.

The girl was inconsolable, and Orihime well-understood her misery and loss. Karin was a little more composed; Isshin was unreadable, but a few of the visiting mourners saw the square shape of a cigarette box in his pants pocket and knew he was affected more than he publicly showed.

"Thanks anyway," Orihime told Tatsuki when her friend walked her home and offered to stay for a while. "I think I have some thinking to do."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Tatsuki nodded as she stood at Orihime's apartment doorway. "It'll take a while to get used to, huh?"

Orihime nodded, shivering. She was in her fall jacket, which wasn't quite warm enough for the frigid weather outside. She hadn't retrieved her coat from the alley from that doubly-awful day and had resorted to wearing the lighter jacket. It wasn't all she had left in the alley.

"I'll never get used to it, Tatsuki-san," she said in a softer tone.

Tatsuki studied her for a moment, but couldn't fathom what Orihime could be leaving unsaid. "All right. See you later, 'Hime-chan."

Orihime closed the door after her friend left, blocking the cold air from the cooler air inside the apartment. She looked around it. Not much had changed in it since her brother had died. The apartment had grown up, as she had, but not much was really different.

"Too much the same," she murmured, hugging herself close at the residual chill she felt from both the physical and spiritual elements. "Maybe I should change...everything."

Everything was a lot to change at one time.

* * *

><p>Ichigo's first few moments of his new afterlife in Soul Society were a hazy few, but after those brief moments of trying to gather his senses, everything focused sharply.<p>

Soi Fon focused things for him.

"Secure Kurosaki!" she barked from the open doorway before Ichigo could ask Rukia his most pertinent questions.

Rukia was immediately on her feet from the spot she'd been kneeling for ten minutes a few feet away, watching as Ichigo slowly came out of his twilight of konso sleep. "Captain Soi Fon?" She stepped toward the petite captain before thinking. One glare from the woman stopped her short. "But why? Ichigo's no –"

"Step down, Kuchiki," Soi Fon snapped, moving aside at the doorway as two Second Division guards rushed into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Ichigo demanded as the men grabbed him from either side.

He was pulled from the mat and whisked to his feet. Both guards looked to the chain at his wrist, and then to Soi Fon in uncertainty.

Soi Fon's eyes narrowed on Ichigo. "Who put that on you?"

"I don't know! What the hell! I just woke up." He flinched from the hold the nearest guard had on him, but the shinigami only bent his arm back at a more painful angle. "What's going on, Captain Soi Fon?"

"So you call _her_ captain?" Byakuya's voice came from outside the konso recovery room.

Rukia sprang to the door, nearly bumping into Soi Fon, who didn't budge. Neither did she move when Byakuya looked into the room from outside.

Ichigo glowered at him next. "What the hell's wrong with you all?"

"You're being restrained until I'm confident you present no threat to anyone here." Soi Fon didn't look at Byakuya at her side.

Rukia was, however. "Nii-sama, why is he being bound? He isn't –"

"Release him," Byakuya ordered the two Second Division guards.

The guards looked to Soi Fon, who shook her head.

Rukia looked imploringly to Byakuya. "Brother, please, there is no need for this."

"What have I done?" Ichigo asked, this time not struggling against the guard with the tightest hold on his arm. "Someone tell me that."

"Kurosaki is no threat. His Hollow's tether has been severed," Byakuya said. He handed Soi Fon a rolled paper. "Captain Kurotsuchi's report. In that you'll find Kurosaki is quite powerless, both as a shinigami presently, and without his Hollow powers. There is no need to restrain him or confine him."

Soi Fon unrolled the note and gave it a quick read. Her eyes flicked to Ichigo. "This also states his shinigami powers can return at any time and may be overpowered by his Hollow. That's not a chance I'm willing to take." She flipped the paper back to Byakuya, who didn't take it.

"Kurosaki will be remanded to my care," Byakuya said, watching Ichigo fidget with confusion. "He'll be retained in the Sixth Division jail until his powers are determined and he is in control as a shinigami."

Ichigo glared first at him and then at Soi Fon. "Someone explain this. I have no power? At all?"

Rukia turned to him. "When you lost your Fullbringer powers, that opened you up to more easily losing your shinigami and Hollow powers. Since you lost to your Hollow, everything that you were using at the time of your death, everything you had, Ichigo, was pulled out of you."

He couldn't believe his ears. Hichigo had damned him, even in death. "I'm...I'm nothing?"

"Yes." Soi Fon nodded to her guards. "Take him to a cell."

"I'm overriding that order," Byakuya told her, his cool tone out of place against her temper. Before the female captain could speak, he handed her another rolled paper. "Orders for Kurosaki to be delivered to my jail. Signed by General Yamamoto himself."

Soi Fon simply dropped a stiff look to the scroll presented to her. "I'm going to speak with General Yamamoto myself." She turned to look at Ichigo. "I'll retract you from Sixth Division and have you placed in my charge. Be ready."

"Don't say anything, Ichigo," Rukia said as he opened his mouth. "You'll only make it worse."

"Guards!" Soi Fon didn't wait for her men to acknowledge her, but turned and exited the room, brushing past Byakuya.

The two guards left, somewhat meekly, following their captain and Omaeda who was still outside.

Ichigo glared after them, and then looked to Byakuya. "Thanks, I guess."

Byakuya glanced at the chain extending from his wrist. "You're incapacitated, Kurosaki. If you regain any powers – Hollow or shinigami or otherwise – you report that change to Vice Captain Abarai." His tone dropped some of the stiffness. "We've made advancements here since the Vizards were expelled. You're a specialized case. You'll be taken to house arrest in my division and if you regain your shinigami powers before your Hollow powers, there should be no problem."

Ichigo frowned, feeling the weight of the chain at his arm seeming to pull at him, making his muscles ache as if he'd been straining for hours. "And what if my Hollow returns first?"

"There is little chance of that." One corner of Byakuya's lips lifted, a twist of a smile. "No Hollow in its right mind comes to Soul Society." He turned and left then, taking with him a few Sixth Division members.

"Yeah, like a Hollow is in its right mind," Ichigo muttered. As Byakuya left, Ichigo saw Renji standing at the porch outside the open doorway. The intense scowl on the red-haired shinigami's face was far past his usual displeasure at seeing him.

"Hey, Renji," he said, trying to determine what else was in the glower. "What're you looking so pissed about?"

Renji remained with his arms crossed at his chest, appraising the newest of dead to join the shinigami ranks. "You remember dying?"

Ichigo shrugged, feeling the chain at his wrist jerk at his shoulder. "Some. Why?"

Rukia looked between them for a moment, not liking Renji's scowl, not trusting Ichigo's lack of memory. "Let's hold off on memories until later, Renji, okay? Time for catching up later."

"Catching up?" Renji nearly spat the words, but reined in his temper. "Come on, Kurosaki. Let's get you to the Sixth."

Ichigo rubbed his wrist where the chain chafed. He could feel the lack of reiatsu or reiryoku. It usually filled him, brimmed within him until it poured out. Now there was nothing. Not even that irritating snicker from his Hollow.

Rukia took the chain, lifting it with a grunt at its heaviness as Ichigo ran his other hand through his tousled hair.

"Don't touch that, Rukia," Renji warned, stepping in to fill the doorway. He watched her study a link. "Just stay away from it."

Ichigo pulled the chain from her, sensing something volatile, something menacing from the tether. "Do you know what's going on?"

She shook her head, looking up to check for any signs of his former self in his face. "Nii-sama won't let Captain Soi Fon get anywhere with her complaints, Ichigo."

"She'll sure as hell try," Renji said, watching Ichigo steadily.

Ichigo gathered the chain. It was both a tether, something that locked away any chance of his Hollow returning, and also a link to a large part of what drove him. "How am I supposed to get my full powers back if part of them isn't allowed in Soul Society?"

"That's what Captain Soi Fon is angry about, that you're here at all." Renji glanced down the side of the building and then back to them. "Right now your Hollow is cut free from you, which means it's just a Hollow, and powerless. You need that part to become whole again, because you're such a grab-bag of powers."

Rukia frowned at him. "Hey, Renji, relax."

"Why? Because there's a new Hollow on the loose in the Living World without Kurosaki to rein it in anymore?" Renji stopped himself before saying more.

Rukia shrugged. "But the Hollow is powerless. It's not much of anything anymore."

Renji couldn't help but glare at Ichigo. "It doesn't have Kurosaki's sense of dignity, nothing to govern it, control its demonic desires."

The last word seemed out of place for Renji to use, and Rukia looked at him shrewdly. "But it's powerless, Renji. Get it? _Powerless_."

Renji got it; he just wished Ichigo was in strong enough shape to start piecing things together for himself. It would take time, he knew, but he didn't want to wait. "Powerless by _Hollow_ standards."

Ichigo nodded slowly, trying to sift through the fog in his mind. "So what's left?" When Renji said nothing, simply glaring at him for unknown reasons, he took a few steps toward the door until the weakness of his recovery caught up with him. He stopped, resting one hand at the doorframe as his knees felt like they would buckle beneath him.

"Just move slower," Rukia said.

He nodded, feeling her small hand at his back. "Then what's left?" he asked Renji again, still looking at the floor as the wave of fatigue passed. When he glanced up, Renji's expression was immobile, something near disgust in it.

Renji's gaze went to Rukia. "Let's get him to Sixth."

* * *

><p>Renji left Rukia with Ichigo in the retaining section of what Sixth Division causally called house arrest. It was a set of rooms in a separate building segregated for officer's incarceration over petty matters, and had no real security to speak of. In his decades as lieutenant, Renji had never seen it used.<p>

Certainly he'd never been housed there.

He left Rukia to tend to the new inmate, giving the orders he could to have Ichigo's needs met and privacy enabled. It was as much as he could do as vice captain to Byakuya Kuchiki, and it would be enough to slow down anything Soi Fon could do without a full-fledged invasion on the Sixth. Renji didn't think that was very likely.

He found his captain at the back of his private quarter's office, a place Byakuya liked to pretend was home, but was more of a pseudo-getaway from Soul Reaper duties. He knew he wasn't supposed to be privy to the fact, but Renji had seen a few women leave the quarters. It wasn't knowledge he'd shared with Rukia.

He stopped at the rice-paper door slid halfway open, letting some of his temper cool.

"Come in, Abarai," Byakuya's tone came from inside.

Renji didn't try to think how his captain knew he was there; he'd given that up long ago. He stepped in to find Byakuya sitting at a low table, a tea service to one side with two cups, his usual formal demeanor somewhat slipped.

Renji bowed, not looking at the obscure landscape paintings on the walls. "Captain."

"What is it? If this is about Soi Fon, have her taken off the property."

Renji straightened. "Nothing about her, Captain."

Byakuya tapped the table with one finger, the only indication of impatience. His appearance was slightly mussed, not quite as manicured as he was usually seen.

Renji automatically glanced to the closed door to the room be knew to be a bedchamber farther into the room. No sound came from it.

"Then what is it, Abarai?"

Renji had practiced what he was going to say, but hadn't got it right yet. "I'm requesting permission for leave to the Living World."

"For what cause?"

"Kurosaki's death has unleashed his Hollow on Karakura Town."

"A wounded and powerless Hollow. Request denied."

The anger jumped in Renji's veins. "It's still a Hollow in –"

"A wounded and powerless Hollow, Abarai." There was more detachment behind the words.

"Captain, Kurosaki's friend, the Living girl, Inoue, was attacked by his Hollow the day he died." It was as delicate as Renji knew how to put the matter, but it still made his hand clench around the items he held there.

This time there was a pause, something less than austere in Byakuya's face. "Your report mentioned only Kurosaki's death."

"She's still alive, but –"

A low sound came from the other room, but Renji didn't look there. He saw something unidentifiable flit through Byakuya's eyes. There was a need for the emotional basics beneath his captain's detached exterior despite what Byakuya liked to openly present.

"But she was attacked." Renji didn't want to leave it there.

"Kurosaki's friend knows Hollows for what they are." This time Byakuya's tone was restive.

Renji held his stare. "I want to return these." He extended his hand and opened it to reveal Orihime's hairpins. "I found these in the alley after her attack, after Kurosaki's fight and death. She was already gone. I know Kurosaki's Hollow is powerless, but so is Inoue without these. I'd like to take them back to her."

Byakuya's eyes rested on the hairpins. "You may. Is there anything else?"

Renji nodded. "I'd like to stay in the Living World until this particular Hollow is under control, however that's done."

Byakuya shook his head and stood up. "Your zanpakutou cauterized Kurosaki's Hollow's injuries. He'll regain some power through self-containment, but there is no need for you to remain in the Living World at this time, Renji."

It was news to Renji. "This Hollow can...can replenish himself?"

"In time, from what Captain Kurosaki's report seems to state." He gave Renji a dismissive nod. "If it becomes a problem, you may stay – at a later time. For now you may return the girl's adornments."

It was all Renji could hope for at the moment. "Thank you, Captain Kuchiki."


	4. Chapter 4

Orihime wasn't where Renji thought she would be. He'd loitered outside the high school long after the last student left the building for the day, even after all the school clubs broke for the early evening. He was sure he had the right school. He'd certainly had to hunt down Ichigo enough during school hours to know which school to be at.

He headed for the apartment building he knew Orihime lived in, across town, near the less-fashionable but still moderately nice neighborhoods. His gigai wasn't as warm as his less-physical shinigami form, but he was hoping to stretch out the visit to the Living World, even if it meant fabricating excuses, even if it meant tempting his captain's temper.

He'd been there before.

He was still looking at the door to the apartment he thought Orihime lived in as twilight set in, straining to sense some drift of her, catch some lingering presence of her particular reiatsu. All he could feel was the irritation of Tsubaki in his pocket.

"Renji?" came Orihime's soft tone from behind him.

He spun to see the lane behind him.

Orihime stood there, looking a bit cold in the falling evening under the meager, half-power streetlights. He thought he saw her visibly shiver in her lightweight jacket.

"Hi, Orihime," he said, stuffing his hands deeper in his pockets. He shucked off his gloves, feeling guilty for having them when she was without any. "Are you just getting home from school?"

"Oh, no. I came home right after class." She approached slowly, not quite her usual bouncy walk, but something less than actual fear. "I've been running some errands."

"You shouldn't be out alone so late." He stepped back from the door as she met him. He nearly asked about her jacket before remembering her coat had served as Ichigo's final pillow before dying. "You need some gloves and a scarf."

"Oh, my gloves were in my other...coat." She turned quickly to the door, gaze dropping from him as her shivering hands fit the key into the door lock. She pushed it open. "Come in."

Renji paused in the doorway as she went ahead of him into the apartment. He didn't step in, mostly from the impropriety of the situation. Rukia was usually with him whenever he'd been near Orihime, except for the last time, and something about it seemed suddenly too intimate, and not in the manner he'd have welcomed. A cold blast of February air rushed in from the lane, and he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

She kept on her jacket, looking to him. "I meant to thank you last time, for everything." She frowned at the words, turning her back, not quite looking at anything.

"Ah, yeah, well, I should've been there sooner." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about that, Orihime. Really I am." He watched her move to the small kitchen area where she flicked on an overhead light. "No one knows. It's not in any report. I mean, your name, and, and everything else."

"Thank you, Renji."

As the light spread into the rooms, he got a better look at the place. Everything was bare except for a stack of cardboard boxes beside one wall. His attention snapped back to her. "Hey, what the hell's going on? Are you moving?"

"Yes." She wrapped her arms around a box overstuffed with items on the kitchen counter. A large towel was draped over the top. "I thought it would be best."

Renji put his hands on his hips, scowling around at the boxes in the empty room. "You moved everything already?"

She held the box close to her chest, mostly for warmth. She nodded, attempting a better smile for him. "Chad helped a lot. He moved the couch all by himself."

He nodded. "Yeah, I suppose he could do that." He shook his head. "Why are you moving? Ah, did you get evicted?" He said it before thinking, but she answered anyway.

"I've been here for so long. A very long time. I thought maybe it would be better to live somewhere else."

She started toward him with the box, but he didn't move.

"Are you moving somewhere better?"

"No, not really." She perked on a smile. "It's cheaper."

"Do you have to move? Is your landlord making you?"

She shook her head.

He nodded. "Well, can you leave the rest for daylight?"

She sighed, shifting the box slightly. "I want to move. I want some distance from everything. Everything here."

For once, Renji's tact meter was in full force, and he nodded. He grabbed one of the two larger boxes from the floor. "How far?"

* * *

><p>It wasn't so much the distance as the unseemly neighborhoods they passed through that bothered Renji. A few bocks over and another street into the poorer districts added a layer of nervousness to the walk in the growing night. A slight snowfall began, quiet and breezy, blanketing the sidewalk, helping to hide the uneven cracks in the cement.<p>

Renji didn't like the crowded lanes, the unkempt appearance of the buildings, the shadows that moved as they passed the alleys. Orihime didn't seem to either, but she kept marching on despite the rising wind, never slowing, eyes riveted on the lane before them.

By the time they got to the drab brown building with the cracked windows, Renji was ready to forcibly turn her around and demand that she return to her old apartment. Instead she stopped before a door near a smelly dumpster and unlocked it and went in.

"This isn't a good neighborhood, Orihime," he said as she went in and he followed. There was a lamp already on, showing off the small room where boxes were stacked by the couch. He set the box down and shut and locked the door behind them. "Let me take you back to your other place. This is..." He shrugged, looking around at the cracked walls and uneven wooden flooring, the noise of neighbors on both sides of the unit rising in arguments, followed by a bottle breaking.

Orihime flinched, hugging her cardboard box close.

"This isn't for you," Renji said. "You don't belong here, Orihime."

She slowly crouched, setting the box on the floor. "I wanted something different." She brushed a few shaking fingers over the top of the covered box.

He shook his head. "But this?"

She sighed, and then stood up. "After the lease is up on the other place, my aunt said we could get a better place. This can do until then." She smiled. "It's only a few months."

He glanced to the wall as a shout came from the other side. "Too long. I'll take you back."

She didn't answer, instead ducking into the next room behind the main room with the box. Renji frowned as she stepped out of view. There was the sound of shifting from the room, and then a very low, windy whistle. He crossed the room and peeked in the open doorway to where Orihime stood at a wall, trying to pull down a cracked open window.

The room was lit by the kitchen light, faintly, and showed a mattress and bedclothes against one wall and several other boxes heaped with Orihime's stuff nearby. It smelled slightly dank, and the wall to the next apartment let in sounds of a TV playing.

Orihime leaned her weight on the top of the window, grunting to close the glass pane the last half inch. Through that opening came a sharp, wintry whistle of cold air.

"You shouldn't be here," Renji said. He moved her to the side and shoved the window down. There was still a slit of crack at the sill from where the window itself was crooked. It let in a higher-pitched whistle through the narrower gap. He looked at the frayed curtain to one side of the glass. "You're not staying here, Orihime."

She stepped back, looking up at him.

"You don't belong here." He pulled the curtain across the window. It was too short and didn't cover the entire glass. He shoved his hands into his pockets and found his gloves and handed them to her. "Why do you want to be here instead of that nice apartment you have?"

She shook her head, looking to the gloves tapping her hands. "I thought I should change things."

"Take them. Your hands are cold."

She didn't argue with him and took the gloves. She slipped them on, smiling at their warmth.

"Listen, I know it's awful," he said, wishing he could think of a less-damaging word, "but coming here isn't a good way to put distance from...things. You don't belong in a place like this."

She crossed her arms, hugging them close to her chest, glancing to the kitchen area. "Yes, I do. Uh, do you want something to drink? I have tea and hot cocoa."

Before he could answer, she left the room for the kitchen.

When he got there she was running the water in the sink, busily sorting through a box on the small counter. "No, you don't," he said. "I know it's wrong, any way you look at it, but being here is worse."

She begrudgingly took off the gloves and found two cups and a small metal water kettle in a box. "The water here is okay. It's not so bad."

He shook his head. "How about if Rukia came and stayed with you for a while?"

Now she looked to him, fear paling her face as she shook her head. "No..."

"She doesn't have to know why." He was going to add that after losing her friend, Ichigo, it would be natural to want the solace of company; but, bringing up Ichigo probably wasn't the best idea at the moment. "Or Rangiku. She's always looking for a reason to come to the Living World. You could...uh, shop. Or, you know, do other stuff together."

The prospect of Rangiku's company brought a flicker of a smile to Orihime's face, but she shook her head. She'd shared secrets with Vice Captain Matsumoto, but she didn't want to let anyone else in on her most recent pain. She looked to the sink and ran water into the kettle.

Renji wasn't about to push the subject as obstinately as he wanted to; tactics of that sort would likely make Orihime shy away, but there was little else in his diplomatic arsenal besides brute coercion. Within moments he found himself with a hot cup of cocoa and sitting on the couch, Orihime at the other end, both of them ignoring the sounds of an argument from the next apartment.

Renji searched through his limited cache of convincing small talk, and came up with nothing. He and Orihime both drank their cocoa, he taking intermittent gulps of the liquid, her sipping thoughtfully from her mug. He watched her out of the corner of his eye in the poor light from the lamp. Flashes of Hichigo raced through his thoughts until he wanted to break something, mostly Ichigo.

He couldn't really blame Ichigo for what had happened after his death; he'd done all he could, and Renji understood that, but on another level, it didn't matter. He watched Orihime sip her cocoa, her lips trembling slightly as she blew on the hot beverage. He didn't know if it was from the cold or because she was nervous, or frightened. She was still wrapped in her coat, boots off, with her feet in thick socks, pulled to her side, tucked under each other.

"Is Ichigo in Soul Society already?" she asked, glancing to him slowly.

"Yup." He nodded, glad for the break in his thoughts. "Uh, he's fine. Got a little attention from Captain Soi Fon, but he's okay."

"Oh? Is he going to be okay there?" Now she looked fully at him, fingers clutched around the warm cup at her lap.

"Yeah, it's just some bullshit about a, well, mixed lot of spiritual powers. You know how he is, got so many kinds of entities in him now," he said offhandedly. He watched her nod slowly, and decided against his better judgment and pressed the issue. "Yeah, he'll settle in. Captain Soi Fon just has to bust his...chops for a while."

She nodded, smiling a little.

"But you know," he added, resting the cup on the couch's arm at his side, "he wouldn't like to think of you in a place like this, Orihime."

Now her interest made her turn to face him. She pulled her feet closer, shaking her head. "Oh, don't tell him I'm here, Renji. Please."

"Why not?" He shrugged. "Moving is a big thing. He'd want to know where you live, in case he ever dropped by."

She swallowed almost painfully, her gaze going over the cracked walls and scuffed floor. "He won't come here."

"Why not?"

"Well, he's...he's in Soul Society now, and he has Rukia there." She looked almost guiltily to him. "This life is over."

He frowned at her. "But he's a Soul Reaper. He'll get sent back here on missions. He'll want to look you up, see you and all."

She shook her head. "It's not like that anymore."

A loud crash of bodies against the wall broke the arguing from the next apartment and they both looked there. Orihime flinched, nearly spilling her cocoa. There were a few shouts, and then the scuffle moved away from the wall to deeper within the next apartment.

Renji watched Orihime study the wall, saw the worry in her violet eyes despite the ill lighting. "I'll tell you what," he said, drinking most of his cocoa, "I'll walk you back to your place tonight and help you move your stuff back tomorrow."

She turned to him, shaking her head. "But –"

"No argument, Orihime," he said, this time meaning it. "You can't stay here. We'll move the rest tomorrow."

She seemed to consider the idea, glancing at the door as a long gust of wind pushed at it. The sound of the wind rose, rattling the door for a long moment, sending a dusting of snow beneath the poorly fitted bottom edge of the door.

"Look at that," he said. "It's letting snow in. And that window in your room, that's too cold to sleep in." He saw the indecision flit through her face, saw the hesitancy in her eyes. His attention dropped to her lips. "I can see your breath in the air, Orihime."

She blinked a few times, and then looked to him, this time with a warmer tone to her voice. "That's not me. That's steam from the cocoa, Renji."

He shrugged, grinning when she smiled a little, but just a little. "Well, it's damn well cold enough to see your breath in here."

She smiled more, drinking her cocoa as the wind rose to a stiff howling outside. "Maybe you're right."

"Yup."

For a long moment they both watched the wind shake the door, listening to the howl of winter and some of the more off-color arguing from the next apartment.

"I guess so."

He nodded, swallowing down the last of his cocoa. "We'll have you moved back in no time. It'll be better that way." Under the door edge he could see the wind push the skiff of snow that had snuck beneath the crack. It swirled lazily to one side, depositing almost invisibly near their boots. "Besides, this place is farther from your school. It's a bad walk, these neighborhoods. Hey, that friend of yours, that girl with the short, black hair; does she live around here?" He sat back in the couch. "Is she closer now...?"

He glanced over at Orihime. She was sleeping.

She'd leaned to the couch back, her cup tipped in her hands, empty, face half-hidden by thick auburn waves of hair still crowned by the pastel pink knit hat.

Renji watched her sleep for a long moment before leaning over and carefully taking the cup from her unmoving fingers. Orihime didn't wake or even stir, exhausted and content, and sensing safety even in her sleep.

* * *

><p>By the early rays of dawn the next morning, the apartment had grown considerably colder. With no core heating, the few rooms Orihime had decided to abandon had no heat except what she and Renji provided. She realized he was still there the next morning when she awoke with a start.<p>

She stifled most of her surprise, blinking a few times at him across the coach, realizing he was sleeping.

Or, she thought, maybe he had left his gigai and was already gone.

She curiously leaned closer across her knees, eyeing him closely without breathing on him, and then slowly got off the couch without disturbing him. Some of the preceding night was a bit fuzzy in her memory, but she remembered the gist of it; she'd agreed to move back.

She hugged her coat close, missing her boots, feeling the chill of the floor through her socks. She stood closer to Renji, observing, thinking once she'd seen his chest move with breathing. He looked like he was sleeping, but then, so did most gigais.

She bit her lip, and then spun around as someone knocked on the door. She'd almost forgotten.

Chad.

She rushed to the door and had unlocked it and was twisting the knob when suddenly Renji was standing at her side, his hand on the door, holding it shut. She looked up to him, deciding it was no gigai.

"You can't just the open the door for anyone out here, Orihime," he said. "You need to know who it is."

She nodded. "Oh, but –"

"Renji?" Chad's voice said from outside the door.

Renji frowned at the door, and then Orihime.

"He was going to help me move my bed frame today," she said, nodding.

"But you're still moving back to your old place, right?" he said more than asked. "That's what we decided last night."

She nodded.

He grinned, and then opened the door.

Chad stood looking back at her – them – taking up most of the doorway. For once, an unchecked look of shock claimed his face as he stared back at Renji.

"Hey, what're you...Renji?"

Orihime blushed pink and emitted a nervous giggle.

Renji nodded and stepped aside to let Chad in. "Uh, yeah, Orihime has decided to move back home, so I'm helping."

Orihime exhaled a whoosh of relief, which Chad thought odd, but said nothing of.

Instead he nodded. "Good."

Orihime smiled, and then left into the bedroom. "Thanks for coming by, Chad," she called. "Can you help us take everything back?"

"Sure."

Orihime scooped up an armload of the nearest still-packed box and turned to see Renji in the doorway. He reached for another box.

"Thanks, Renji," she said. "For everything. Again."

He nodded, grinning as he hoisted the large box. "Let's get you back where you belong."


End file.
